


Return Triumphant

by Taliya



Series: Fanfare [3]
Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Drama, Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Moving On, Past Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Secret Identity, Secret Identity Fail, Wish Fulfillment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-03-06 08:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18846901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taliya/pseuds/Taliya
Summary: An anthology of separate instances detailing the heists and adventures of the third Kaitou KID, Edogawa Conan—not that Inspector Nakamori Ginzou knew any better.  But Hakuba Saguru is suspicious, and Haibara Ai is unimpressed.  Rated for language.  References to character death.





	1. Heist: Revival

**Author's Note:**

> Detective Conan and Magic Kaito characters, settings, and ideas do not belong to me but to Aoyama Gōshō.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kaitou KID’s inaugural heist draws more familiar faces than he expected—and resurrects a few ghosts in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter-specific warnings: References to major character death, angst like whoa

With the help of Kuroba Chikage and Jii Konosuke, a heist notice from Kaitou KID had been written and delivered to the desk of one Superintendent Nakamori Ginzo, head of Division Two’s Kaitou KID Task Force of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department.  It had, after years of training, been child’s play to slip into and out of the multistoried office unnoticed, and a small bug had been planted under the corner of the inspector’s desk so that his reaction could be heard by the newly-minted thief and his two assistants.

The trio consisted of Chikage, Jii, and sixteen-year-old Edogawa Conan—who was in reality twenty-six-year-old Kudou Shinichi: homicide detective, and the third and current successor to the Kaitou KID mantle.  They sat at the dining table in the Kuroba home one Friday morning in July, eating breakfast that Chikage and Conan had jointly prepared and chatting easily with one another, a small transceiver-speaker resting innocently on the center of the table quietly issuing the early-morning chatter of the members of the Kaitou KID Task Force.  Jii had dropped by the home shortly after seven so that he could also listen to the metaphorical fireworks going off.

“Are you serious, Chikage-san, he really was _that_ afraid of them?”

The widow smiled in fond remembrance.  “Kaito was deathly afraid of them.  Reacted like a cat touching scalding-hot water, though he put a lot of effort into hiding that phobia of his.”

Jii chortled.  “Never would have thought it considering he jumped off the Queens Elizabeth after the Black Star heist, did you?”

Conan chuckled ruefully.  “I was a little more preoccupied with making sure Ran was actually wearing clothes.  I thought that he actually _had_ stripped her of her clothing and left her naked somewhere.  I mean—” he flushed in remembrance, “—he even had lacy pink undergarments!”

Both Jii and Chikage burst out laughing.  “That boy…” Chikage choked out, “was utterly _shameless_.”

“You could say that again,” the detective laughed.  “I’m amazed that—”

“ _HAH?!_ ” Nakamori’s surprised voice crackled through the small speaker.  There was a startled outcry from his subordinates at their superior’s eruption, and the three at the table froze in their conversation only to stifle their titters at the inspector’s reaction so they could listen in.  They had not caught him entering the office.  _“This is—this is—”_

_“Na—Nakamori-keibu…?”_

_“KAITOU KID!  I WILL CATCH YOU FOR SURE THIS TIME!”_ the Superintendent announced to everyone within a five kilometer radius, _“I knew you hadn’t died the first time, and I wasn’t going to fall for that trick a second time!”_

_“Um… keibu…?”_

_“A notice!  Finally!  I have a notice here on my desk!”_   Nakamori began to recite:

“In the national sanctuary of heritage  
When the pig greets the maker of rice cake,  
I will claim the Phoenix’s Egg.

-Kaitou KID”

There was a brief pause as the men absorbed the notice before the superintendent bellowed, _“Konno!  Have your team look up the Phoenix’s Egg!  Find out where the target is located!  Yamabuki, confirm the date and time with the quarter moon and the pig!  We’ll catch him this time!”_

There was a resounding chorus of agreement from the Task Force as they dispersed to perform their appointed tasks, and Conan reached out to shut the transmitter off with a chuckle.  “Nakamori-keibu sounds fired up,” he commented, grinning widely.

Jii wiped a tear from his eye.  “It’s been a while since I’ve heard that.”

“Well then,” Chikage said briskly, all business, “Why don’t we recheck your equipment first before relaxing for the rest of the day?  Jii and I will leave around seven this evening to double-check the preparations on our ends, and hopefully in two nights’ time we’ll give them a heist to remember.”  She winked cheekily.  “I think both Kaito and Touichi would approve of this one!”

\---

The rotors of the helicopter thrummed loudly in his ears as Jii expertly piloted the craft, the generated winds whipping at the black cloak he wore over the trademark white suit as he stood by the open passenger hatch.  From this vantage point Conan could see the literal sea of people gathered outside the museum, all of them chanting KID’s name.

The idea that these people were rooting for him, hoping that he succeeded was… breathtakingly amazing.  The excitement from the crowd, added to the knowledge of what he was about to do and who he now was, sent his pulse racing in a manner he had only experienced when he had chased Kuroba Kaito as Kaitou KID all those years ago.  It brought a nostalgic smile to his face, but he transformed it into KID’s trickster grin because he knew Kaito would _never_ want anybody to be unhappy on his account.

Conan had studied his face extensively in the mirror after he had initially donned the costume, trying out different expressions.  The one that he knew would be his version of KID’s smile had been a mixture of Kaito’s mischievous, fun-loving grin and his own crafty, devious smirks.  Even now it amazed him how similar he appeared to Kaito, and according to Chikage and Jii, his skill in magic and sleight of hand, while nowhere near close enough to rival Kaito’s or Touichi’s yet, was more than adequate to work for Kaitou KID, especially if he had help from his two older assistants.  Still, both of the veterans had faith that Conan would soon reach his predecessors’ levels what with how hard he trained to improve.

The only hitch in the whole thing had been his voice.  Despite all the training that his mother had put him through, Conan had never been able to obtain that same vocal flexibility that either the previous KIDs possessed.  To make up for it, Conan had asked his former neighbor Agasa Hiroshi to create an item similar to his old voice-changing bow tie—except that now, it was a thin, flesh-toned silicone strip that he wore around his throat, much like the one that Akai Shuichi wore during his stint as Okiya Subaru.  It was sticky enough to stay without any additional adhesives and remained affixed through his practices in the clothing quick-changes and was practically invisible.

He was able to modulate his voice with the aid of two small, equally hidden electromagnets adhered to his right hand: one disc was stuck to the tip of his ring finger, the other at the base of the fleshy mound of his thumb.  The relatively awkward locations of the magnets meant that he would not accidentally change his voice as he went about the heist—there was a very specific hand movement required to change his voice.  Thankfully, Conan planned to use his normal voice with a slight lilting affectation that he could manage without the voice changer.  It was in keeping with the manner that both Kaito-KID and Touichi-KID had spoken.

Jii maneuvered the helicopter into place above the back roof of the museum and rolled out an electronically retractable rope ladder.  Holding the aircraft steady, Jii twisted so that he could see Conan and yelled, “Good luck, Conan-sama!” over the noise of the rotors.  Conan smiled warmly back at the elderly man and began his descent to the rooftop.  Jii had the helicopter sway a little as his searchlight roved the rooftop, presumably to preemptively spot Kaitou KID.

Once Conan made it to the roof, he muttered an affirmative into the small earpiece in one ear he, Jii, and Chikage were connected to via the same frequency, and the pilot pulled the ladder back up.  The earpiece in his other ear was tuned into the police radio frequency, listening in to the Task Force’s last-minute orders.

Conan was not surprised to learn that Hakuba Saguru had returned to Japan for the heist; after speaking extensively with Nakamori Aoko numerous times whenever she came home for the holidays he had learned that the half-Briton had long suspected and accused Kaito of being KID.  That he would return from his native England for this was only par for the course for a detective who had dedicated a portion of his life chasing after the phantom thief.  Now back on solid ground, the detective-turned-thief had to take shelter under an eave to forcefully calm himself down.  He wondered if Kaito had ever felt so excited that he shook just before the start of a heist.

With a final breath, the phantom thief began the task of creeping to his appointed appearance site, every now and then ducking into the eaves as a searchlight rolled over his location.  He made it with two minutes to spare and crouched behind the apex of the roof, eyes switching between the sky and his pocket watch.  As Hakuba counted down the seconds in his earpiece, Conan readied a smoke bomb as Kaitou KID’s grin spread across his face.

On the last second, KID dropped the pellet, engulfing the area in a blast of haze as he stood up on the apex of the roof, his black cloak stowed.  As it cleared he stretched his arms wide to the roar of his fans and greeted them with, “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” in English.  He took a few breaths to savor the moment before he tipped his hat and swept out his cape as he bent into an elegant bow, and the noise from his audience swelled.

Mixed somewhere in the ruckus of the crowd, Conan could hear the superintendent’s promises to capture him this time.  KID grinned rakishly as he dropped another smoke bomb and disappeared from view, when in reality he had slid down the side of the angled roof covered in the black cloak once more.  He twisted right before he reached the edge, fingertips grasping the edge as he used his momentum to swing himself through a window Chikage had previously picked open.

KID tumbled into the hallway in a smooth barrel roll that had him rolling easily to his feet and he once again stowed the cloak.  He glanced up and down the hallway to check for Nakamori’s men, and finding none, grinned and sprinted down the hall only to quickly pop a ventilation grate in the wall open and slither into the ductwork with no one the wiser.

With the grate propped shut behind him, KID crawled through the duct and eyed the flurry of activity in the security room of the museum.  There were officers watching multiple monitors showing camera feeds, most of them focused on the target of the heist: the Phoenix’s Egg.  The ovoid gemstone was a faceted crimson ruby that weighed in at twenty-three carats and was etched and inlaid with delicate gold filigree.

While the size of the egg made it noteworthy, it was the sheer intricacy of the gold ornamentation that made it one of a kind.  Decorated with miniature likenesses of the East Asian phoenix, the ruby was a trade gift from the Chinese Qin Dynasty’s founding emperor, Qin Shi Huang, to the Indian Mauryan Empire’s fifth emperor, Dasharatha Maurya.

The Phoenix’s Egg rested in a custom case much like the Fabergé Memories Eggs, which meant that snapping the case shut would keep the egg and its ornamentation safe from being jostled too much, as it was part of a traveling display.  KID grinned at the image of his heist target on the screens and tapped a few buttons on a handheld transmitter before he backed away from the security room’s grate.  He continued crawling around the maze of piping, using a flashlight to light the passages until he reached the room with the Phoenix’s Egg.

 _“How are you doing, Conan-sama?”_ came Jii’s voice in one ear, the rotors of the helicopter still audible in the background.

“Just about to set off the smoke,” he replied as he made a mental note to discuss how he was to be addressed during a heist.  It would not do to have his earpiece fall out and have someone hear his name being called over it.  But to be fair, the earpiece connecting him to Jii and Chikage was a safety precaution for this heist—a safety net for the newly minted phantom thief.  Once he was more comfortable with running heists he would be on his own unless he specifically called them, though they both promised to be no further than a phone call away if he needed help.

The aging assistant hummed in satisfaction, and the former Phantom Lady replied, _“Let us know if you need assistance.”_

KID replied with a quick, “Of course.”

Resting just next to the grate was a smoke bomb with a wireless transmitter that Chikage had helpfully installed prior to the heist.  The thief slid a gas mask over his face before pressing the small detonator.  He watched with satisfaction as smoke billowed explosively from the device, the other grates in the room blasting similar white haze into the room.  The looped feed he had initiated near the security room would prevent the officers in there from seeing the smoke, and the gas would knock out the eight officers in the nearby vicinity of the Egg while dropping visibility to nothing.  A ninth officer was present as well—one who was not part of the police’s plan—and who was none other than Phantom Lady in disguise.

KID eeled out of the duct with easy agility, navigating easily through the haze to his prize.  Producing a small knife, he pried open the case opposite the invisible hinges Jii had installed when the display had been commissioned.  The front panel swung open with ease.  He snapped the case containing the Egg shut, whisked it from the case, and stowed it safely on his person via a custom-made harness that would keep it secure as he flipped and jumped.  A handheld soldering gun adhered the glass panel back into place, evidence of his forced entry melted away by the heat of the gun.

By now, the smoke had begun to thin.  The phantom thief hopped and flipped himself onto the tallest display case, up near the ceiling where a large, intricately woven area rug was hung.  He slid into a lounging position on top of the glass cabinet, appearing completely at ease as he waited for the looped feed to cut and for the police to realize that the Egg was gone.  A hand gesture, and Phantom Lady slipped out of the room to blend in with the other patrolling officers.

The magician smirked when a string of expletives filled one ear, courtesy of an enraged Nakamori Ginzou.  He gave them thirty seconds to make their appearance in the gallery, and his eyes marked the various methods of escape he had at his disposal.  The inspector and a veritable army of officers thundered into the room, eyes roving the smoke-fogged gallery through masks.  “Where are you KID?” roared Nakamori.

“Just watching these good men take a nap,” KID replied, waving his hand in a “hello” gesture as law enforcement finally discovered his location.  Piece said, he rolled backwards and off the case, landing in a rolling crouch.  A masked officer greeted him with a spare uniform, and the magician quick-changed in order to disappear into the sea of police.

“Spread out and find him!” the inspector was shouting as he directed his men to search every nook and cranny for the white-clad magician.

“He’s not here!” KID called out with a disguised voice as he and the other officer he knew to be Phantom Lady appeared from behind the display.  “He disappeared!”

Nakamori snarled.  He might have been suspicious had only one officer appeared from behind the display—but two had appeared, and Kaitou KID was only one person.  The idea of an accomplice never once crossed his mind, though to be fair both Kaito and Touichi had always managed to make it seem as though KID had strictly worked solo.  While more and more men confirmed the lack of a hiding gentleman thief, KID and Lady escaped the crowd of police with little fanfare.

“See you outside,” the disguised woman said once they reached the foyer.

KID nodded with a grin as he reverted back to the iconic white outfit.  “I’ve an escape to stage.”  So saying, he turned and began to run up the main staircase to the fourth floor, waving merrily and grinning at every security camera he passed.  Barreling his way into an emergency stairwell, he flew up the last flight and exited onto the roof.

A brisk wind plucked at his cape, tie, and clover charm, sending them fluttering and twirling.  The full moon hung serenely over the Tokyo skyline, the cloudless sky twinkling with the few stars bright enough to penetrate the city’s light pollution.  KID pulled the case from its harness and cracked the outer protection open.  Plucking the Egg from its resting place, he held it up to the moonlight for inspection.

Though the detailed gold filigree obstructed large portions of the ruby, there was still enough of it exposed that allowed him to see through the gem.  The jewel appeared clear within, and KID knew that this one was not the one he sought.  _Well, you’ll be going back to Nakamori soon enough._

“If you happen to be an impostor, you’re a damn good one,” a lightly-accented voice remarked over the soft whistling of the breeze.

KID turned on his heel as he slid the Egg back into its case, tucking it safely away before stuffing his hands in his pockets, eyes turning to his newest opponent.  “Whoever said I was an imposter?” he asked evenly, having decided not to use the lilting tone Kaito had favored when he had been KID.  He was his own version of the gentleman thief—different, yet still the same.  He withdrew the card gun from his right pocket and twirled it easily on a finger as he grinned rakishly at the shadowy figure.  “Do you think an impersonator would have escaped Division Two’s finest as easily as I have?”

He watched as Hakuba Saguru stepped out from the shadows of the stairwell, dressed in a lightweight trench coat.  The half-Briton was dressed as impeccably as ever in a pressed button up, a silk tie held down with a polished gold tie clip, sharply creased trousers, and oxfords polished to a shine.  His wavy blond hair was neatly combed and gelled, not a strand displaced by the wind.

Hakuba froze in his approach when he was about three meters away, hazel eyes focused on KID’s face as he gasped in shock.  His already pallid Westerner’s complexion paled even more under the moonlight, and he looked immensely shaken—as though he had seen a ghost.  The magician watched as the blond swallowed thickly, working his mouth in an effort to form comprehensible words.  “Ku—Kuroba-kun?” he stuttered quietly, and behind his Poker Face the thief felt his heart break at the fragile, desperate hope he heard in the blond detective’s voice.

KID bowed his head.  “I’m afraid your friend has not been with us for a long time,” he murmured, his voice contrite.  It was a break in the character of the normally playful phantom thief, but it was Conan— _Shinichi_ —who spoke the unvoiced apology, allowed his true self to bleed through for this one moment of commiseration.

He watched as Hakuba’s shoulders visibly sagged as he ducked his head, and abruptly KID realized that the detective had suddenly lost his friend all over again at the shattered belief that the magician who stood before him had been his teenaged rival.  He listened as the blond struggled to control his ragged breathing, and his heart ached for his loss.

“I am sorry,” KID whispered, watching the Interpol officer grieve for a moment before he turned and made for the edge of the roof, both to escape and to give the other man the space to mourn in private.

“Wait!” 

KID wished he could stay, could listen to what Hakuba had to say that weighed so heavily on his mind, but the orders being barked into his ear by the police warned him that they were on their way up to the roof.  With a regretful glance at the blond.  “I’m sorry I cannot stay,” he began and watched as Hakuba’s face crumpled, “But if you feel the need to air your grievances I wouldn’t mind meeting you after…?”

Hakuba’s head shot up, eyes alight with a near manic hope.  “I promise not to try to arrest you,” he quickly said in reply.  It was a response that the magician knew a younger Hakuba Saguru would have never even considered.

And KID realized that the blond was subconsciously seeking closure.  “Are you staying with your father for the duration of your visit?”

“Yes,” the detective promptly answered.

The thief nodded.  “I will find you there.”  KID forced a grin onto his face and tipped his hat at the staring detective.  “Until then, have a good evening, Tantei-san,” he said, and swan dived off the edge of the building.  The pulley system that Chikage had previously installed and to which he had clipped himself into slowed his descent, allowing him to safely land on the ground.  A push of a transmitter button had the clamps on the roof disengaging, and the cable was retracted into a coil that was anchored to a nearby tree.  KID changed quickly into nondescript streetwear, taking the pulley and coiled cable with him.

He nonchalantly strode into the crowd and then past, mind churning on what Hakuba Saguru could possibly want to discuss with him.

_“Conan?  Status?”_

Conan blinked, Chikage’s voice rousing him from his contemplation.  “Out of the museum,” he answered, “and headed for the rendezvous point.”

 _“Copy, Conan-sama,”_ Jii replied, and there was silence from the earpiece that connected the magicians and phantom thieves.

The teen yanked the earpiece that was set to the police frequency out, no longer needing to listen to their orders.  He ambled towards the parking garage that Jii’s Vanden Plas Princess 1100 was parked in.  Conan found the vehicle on the third floor, Jii and Chikage leaning against the back bumper and quietly talking.  They both straightened to greet him, their celebratory smiles sliding off their faces at Conan’s pensive and somewhat gloomy expression.

“What happened?” Chikage asked as she approached, reaching out to clasp his shoulders as if to physically inspect him for injuries, to reassure that he was not a ghost.

They traded concerned looks when Conan replied softly, “Hakuba Saguru.”

“Oh,” the Kuroba widow exhaled and dropped her arms from his shoulders.  The heaviness in her voice made Conan recognize that her thoughts had instantly gone to her long-deceased child.  There was silence for a long moment before she suggested, “Let’s… continue this conversation in the car.”

The three of them slid into the black vehicle, and it was a while before their driver broke the silence.  “How was he?” Jii asked, cautiously curious.

Conan swallowed.  “He—he didn’t look so well…”  His voice trailed off, and he had to clear his throat before he tried again.  “I think it was like a sucker punch to the gut for him.”  He let that statement settle for a moment before he added, “I’ve agreed to meet him at his house.”  Both Chikage and Jii’s expressions morphed into concern.  “He won’t unmask me,” Conan said quickly, trying to quell their rising anxiety, “He promised he wouldn’t and seemed to only want to talk.”

There was silence before Jii hesitantly spoke.  “If he has promised, then I believe it is safe for you to go.”  When Chikage opened her mouth to protest, the older man held up a hand, silently asking permission to continue.  The woman subsided.  “Hakuba-kun had always been a thorn in Bocchama’s side.  But in all my years of listening to the two interact, Hakuba-kun had never once acted dishonorably.  I believe it was he who slipped Bocchama’s glove away, kept any potential DNA samples to be gained from his glove out of the hands of the police when Nightmare fell to his death.”

Conan frowned.  “I remember that case, though not much of the details.”

“Hakuba-kun had chased after Bocchama once he had stolen the Dark Knight—a pair of black opal earrings.  He encountered Nakamori-chan chasing after Kenta Connery-kun, the son of ICPO officer Jack Connery-san.  They arrived in a warehouse to Bocchama up on an aging catwalk with card gun in hand and missing a glove, Jack Connery on the floor dead with the missing glove in one hand and the earrings in the other, and Nightmare’s mask several meters away with a card embedded in the forehead.”  The old assistant sighed. 

“Because that glove touched skin, that was definite DNA evidence.  And yet the police never mentioned obtaining Bocchama’s glove as a piece of evidence.  I can only conclude that Hakuba-kun realized that Bocchama had tried and failed to save Connery-san, and ensured the mask was off his face before Kenta-kun saw that his father was actually a murderer.

“So this is why I have faith that Hakuba-kun will stay true to his word and not unmask you.  You should definitely be careful and have an escape plan or two ready, but I do not believe he will pose as the most obvious threat to you should you visit him.”

Conan turned his eyes to Chikage to gauge her reaction.  She sighed as well.  “I’ve only ever heard Kaito insult that boy from day one.  And yet despite the very prejudiced point of view, I could tell that Hakuba-kun was a respectable young man, if a little headstrong.”  She smiled faintly and stared at her live-in houseguest with warm concern mingled with sadness.  “I think you should talk to him, Conan.  Seeing you as you were tonight probably brought certain ghosts back to life.”

“Yeah,” Conan agreed heavily, “that’s what I thought too.”  The rest of the trip back to Ekoda was quiet, each of the car’s occupants lost in their own thoughts.  Upon arriving at the Kuroba house, Jii asked if Conan wanted a lift to Hakuba’s.  “Thanks, but I’ll be fine,” the teenager replied.  “It’s really late, and I don’t want you to accidentally be seen driving Kaitou KID around.”

Chikage and Conan bid Jii a good night—or rather, morning at this point, and made their way into the house.  “You’ll be okay?” Chikage asked as Conan headed for the stairs.

Conan paused on the steps, turning to gaze upon the woman before nodding resolutely.  “I’ll be fine.  Sleep well, Chikage.”

“Come back safely, Conan,” she replied before heading to the master bedroom on the ground floor to prepare for bed.

Conan murmured his confirmation, then made his way towards his room—and one of the entrances to KID’s hidden workshop.  He dropped through the revolving portrait, tucking the Egg safely on a counter before considering how he wished to appear before the blond.

\---

The iconic white outfit was out.  Conan had no desire to inspire flashback-induced panic attacks in the blond.  But neither could he go with his simple reconnaissance blacks—it left too much of his near-identical-to-Kaito face exposed.  So a partial mask would be used.  Decision made, he shuffled to the vanity that housed all of his cosmetics, prosthetics, wigs, and contacts.  The thief settled on just enough of a disguise to change the shape and angles of his face, and green contacts to further separate himself from Kuroba Kaito.

Jawline more angular with higher cheekbones and nose bridge, Conan studied himself in the mirror.  His reflection appeared to be half Asian, half Caucasian when one included the changed eye color and the rust-brown wig.  Tossing on baggy cargo pants, a blue and white-striped Tokyo Spirits jersey, and a faded black baseball cap bearing the curvy mountain and sun logo of the Whistler Blackcomb Resort, he tossed a few canisters of sleeping gas, his card gun, and a pair of lightweight tactile climbing gloves into his pockets.  Conan could not recall if Kaito had ever been a proficient snowboarder—though he was a better than average skier—but as Whistler was renowned for their snowboarding trails, he felt it was a safe enough choice.

He glanced over an old blueprint of the Hakuba home before he left, and he could not help but wonder why Kaito had ever felt the need to obtain this particular set of blueprints.  The early hours of the spring predawn was pleasantly cool as Conan made his way to the Hakuba residence at a light jog.  As he neared the large house he slowed and hid in a neighbor’s tree across the way, eyes searching for security cameras.  He slid the KID monocle on and activated the night vision feature, confirming what he had seen with his naked eyes.

The entire house was dark, though KID spotted one balconied door on the second floor that had been left open.  It was as clear an invitation as the magician thief was going to get, barring Hakuba highlighting up the unconventional entrance with neon lights.  He double-checked the direction the various cameras were pointed and mentally mapped out the best route to get to the balcony without being spotted by the cameras as he pulled his gloves onto his hands.

Flipping out of the tree into a crouch, KID sprinted across the street, staying within the cover of the shadows between the street lamps.  He vaulted over the exterior wall, landing in a blind spot.  He slid around the areas monitored by the cameras, nimbly making his way through the garden without leaving a trace of his passing.

Sidling up next to the brick wall of the house, the thief tested his grip before he began the climb up to the second floor.  The door in question was a Juliet balcony; there was just enough space for a body to crouch and hide in.  KID flipped onto the balcony with barely a sound, ears straining to hear any sort of sound that would indicate a trap.

The house was silent—somewhat unusual for ten o’clock at night, but not entirely unheard of.  Using a small mirror, KID peeked through the open door.  A bedroom greeted him, and sitting on the bed, dressed for sleep and partway under the covers, was Hakuba Saguru.  The door leading to the rest of the house was closed, and—KID raised an eyebrow in surprise—several white noise generators were scattered about the room.

Marginally relaxing at the lack of security cameras or recording devices within the bedroom, the magician slipped into the interior of the home of the Superintendent General.  “I will admit I was not expecting this warm of a welcome,” he murmured, standing just inside the balcony doors and backlit by a beam of moonlight.

“I promise I pose no threat to you this night.”  KID turned his eyes on the blond detective.  Even with the moonlight bleaching the color from his complexion, Hakuba did not look particularly healthy.  His eyes were glassy, and he appeared to be in some form of shock.  KID wondered how he had made it home, and whether or not someone was keeping an eye on his condition.

“You don’t look well, Tantei-san,” the thief remarked, a worried frown evident on his face despite the pulled-down bill of his cap.  Despite the concern in his voice, KID made sure to stay near his best point of escape.

Hakuba chuckled sardonically.  “I’ve certainly been worse,” he replied, and his gaze abruptly sharpened with laser-like focus on the magician.  “And you…” his voice trailed off and his gaze phased out and dropped to his interlocked fingers, which rested above the duvet covering his legs.  “I don’t—I don’t know you… do I?”

The slight quaver in the blond’s normally confident voice— _hurt_ , though he had to hide it.  KID tilted his head in curiosity as he asked softly, “ _Should_ you know me?”

A choked laugh escaped from Hakuba.  “I thought I did.”

“Tantei-san—”

“Don’t call me that!”  KID did not flinch, per se, but he did stiffen at the detective’s sudden outburst.  Hakuba’s breaths were rough and shaky as he hissed sibilantly, “I went _eight years_ without hearing that from anyone.”  Those hazel eyes rose to catch his, and the gentleman thief caught the glimmer of tears.  “And then _you_ come along—and you have the same voice, and from what I can tell the same appearance as—”  He swallowed thickly before releasing a mixed chuckle and sob.  “I’m just grasping at straws, aren’t I?”

It felt like his chest was being compressed in a vice.  KID knew what kind of man Hakuba was—knew how proud, how intelligent, how driven he was.  And yet all he saw before him was a broken man desperately trying to shield the shattered pieces of himself from him.  With great hesitance he gently proposed, “Then what would you like me to address you as?”

Shudders rippled across the blond’s frame as he struggled to regain control of himself.  “I… I don’t know.  I don’t care, since I don’t plan on participating in another of your heists ever again.”

KID blinked, feeling as though he had been metaphorically slapped across the face.  “You’re giving up on me?” he whispered, feeling something inside him drop down to his feet even as disappointment welled up from within.

“No,” Hakuba breathed with a shake of his head.  “I honestly don’t think I ever could.”  He paused, visibly calming himself with several deep breaths.  “I want to catch you,” he began, and once again locked anguished eyes with the thief.  “I want to catch you so badly my chest aches at the idea of not chasing you.  But if I do, I don’t think my sanity would survive.”  The detective dropped his gaze yet again.  “I’d only see my dead friend in you each time I saw you, and I—I just _can’t_.”

KID bowed his head mournfully.  “I understand,” he murmured in reply.  There was a moment of quiet between the two before he said, “I meant what I said earlier, on the roof of the museum.  I truly _am_ sorry for your loss.”

A sob escaped the detective before he could contain it.  “Much as I would like to blame you, I have no one to blame but myself.  I mean—” and here he laughed, a smidge hysterically, “—here I am trying to actively dig up my ghosts when most people would do anything to lay them to rest.”  He wiped his eyes with the cuff of his nightshirt, and had KID not been carefully listening, he would have never heard the whispered, “I never should have returned to Japan.”

Words could not describe how wretched the thief felt for the blond.  As it was, it took all of the Poker Face training that had been figuratively pounded into him by Chikage and Jii to maintain his air of miserable calm.  “Hakuba-san…”

“I’m catching the first flight out in the morning, so you won’t have to deal with me ever again.”  The words were sharp, as though he had forced them out.  “But just—”  He sighed, ruffling his hair in agitation.  “I don’t know who you are,” Hakuba began haltingly, his voice strengthening and evening out the longer he spoke.  “I don’t know where you come from, or what kind of person you are.  But if you are the kind of person that I think you are, then Kaitou KID is something more— _has_ to be something more—something that is beyond just thievery and illusions.”

KID watched the detective, who glared at the duvet with trembling lips and clenched fists.  “And I can’t help but wonder if I have been wrong all these years,” he continued, his voice flavored by something heavy but at the same time, absent—as though he had forgotten that he had an audience.  “If—I’d been the one to have gotten him killed with all of my accusations.”

The thief’s eyes widened at the other man’s confession, at the guilt that he now realized permeated everything Hakuba had said.  “No,” he breathed, needing to reassure the detective that he was not at fault.  “His death was not your fault!”

“It was stated that he died in a car accident,” Hakuba mumbled before shaking his head.  “But I don’t believe it.  He couldn’t possibly have died in such a normal manner.”

The phantom thief wished he could curl up into a little ball and disappear in the face of Hakuba’s self-reproach.  Feeling as though his tongue were made of lead, he quietly admitted, “He did die in such a manner.  I know because—”  KID paused, swallowing around the lump that had formed in his throat as he stared at the carpeted floor.  “I know because… because I was the one to perform CPR on him on the way to the hospital.”

Hakuba had completely stilled at the magician’s admission before all the tension left him and he slumped into a curled, uncomfortable-looking heap on his bed.  A low, hitched sob drifted from the general direction of the bed before a heartfelt mumbled, _“Thank you.”_

KID released a shaky exhale.  “I’m sorry that I am not the one you wanted.  But I hope I’ve given you a little closure.”  Grasping the doorknob to the balcony’s door, he murmured, “Be well, Hakuba-san,” and exited the bedroom.  Upon hearing the click of the lock Conan fled, tears blurring his vision as he returned to the Kuroba house.

Conan did not remember the journey back, but a restless Chikage was there to greet him with a tight hug and tears in her eyes that she refused to let fall.  The two embraced for a long time simply standing in the genkan, seeking and providing warmth and comfort to the other.

“I’m sorry,” Conan breathed, his tears dampening the shoulder of the woman’s shirt as he apologized for nothing in specific, but for everything that the woman had gone through with the loss of both her husband and son.

Chikage said nothing, but the strength of her hug conveyed to Conan what words could not.  At length she released him and gazed at him with red rimmed eyes.  A hand reached up to brush his cheek, and she said with a wobbly smile, “Welcome home.”

Conan smiled just as shakily back and murmured, “I’m home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Apologies that it’s been so long, but I’ve suddenly been struck by motivation to continue this AU despite my ongoing battle with depression that leaves me completely unmotivated to do anything at all. This did, however, make me realize how much I don’t like heist planning… I didn’t intend for this to take a nosedive into angstland, but… well, depression… With regards to the heist note, in addition to the yearly zodiac, a day was broken into twelve “hour” divisions according to the different animals, and the hour of the pig was from 9 PM to 11 PM. In Sinospherical—countries and regions in East Asia that were historically influenced by Chinese culture—folklore, the pareidolic image on the moon resembled a rabbit working with a mortar and pestle, opposed to the Western image of the man in the moon. Depending on the country, the rabbit pounds different things in the mortar, and in Japan, the rabbit prepares ingredients for mochi, or sticky rice cake. I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> \---
> 
> Completed: 16.05.2019


	2. Adventure: Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haibara Ai figures out the newest Kaitou KID's identity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter-specific warnings: Character death references, post-traumatic stress disorder and anxiety, language

Kaitou KID landed softly on the roof of a large home in Beika, disengaging his glider as he did so. The heist had been in nearby Beika Museum, and he had only wanted to take a breather to change into normal street clothing before he made his way back to Ekoda. He sighed, rolling his shoulders as he disengaged the hydraulics keeping the glider's frame rigid.

The Sukhothai Ruby was a large red gemstone that was the centerpiece of an intricate gold necklace that had been commissioned by the Siamese Phra Ruang Dynasty's King Si Inthrathit for his wife, Queen Sueang. KID had swiped it with ease despite the best efforts of Division Two, and as of now the heavy weight of the gold and gems rested safely within the inner breast pocket of his coat.

The phantom thief hopped down from the roof onto a tree branch and monkeyed his way deeper into the cover the leaves provided. Kaitou KID had been the one to leap into the tree branches, but it was Edogawa Conan who dropped down to the ground.

With an air of carefully affected nonchalance, the teenaged detective exited from the property he had landed in, casually swinging the exterior gate shut and strolling off into the darkness of the street. Along the way to the train stationed, he received a call on his Shounen Tantei-dan badge. It was Tsubaraya Mitsuhiko, and he had wanted to ask Conan if he had attended the KID heist that evening.

"Nah, I didn't go," Conan answered, his free hand stuffed in a pocket as he walked and enjoyed the cool night air. A half lie: he had indeed not gone—as _himself_. "I had ninjutsu practice tonight—" technically speaking, that is, "—and a lot of homework I still haven't finished yet."

The other boy sighed. _"You haven't been to any since he reappeared even though we've all made an effort to go."_

The bespectacled boy winced, even though he knew that his friend had not meant to be accusatory with his words. "I know… but I really _have_ been busy…"

_"Conan, we should catch up some time,"_ Yoshida Ayumi said, butting into the conversation. Over the years, the members of the Shounen Tantei-dan had become comfortable enough with each other to drop the suffixes attached to their names.

_"Yeah, Conan,"_ Kojima Genta echoed as he joined in, _"We don't see you often."_

Conan chuckled. "Well, I _do_ live on the other side of Tokyo now…"

_"So let's meet up this weekend!"_

_"Yeah! Let's meet up on Saturday!"_

_"Where should we meet then?"_ came the sedate, ever-steady voice of Haibara Ai.

"Poirot?" Conan suggested as he passed by the street that, just a few storefronts down, was the home of Café Poirot on the ground floor, the Mouri Detective Agency on the second, and the Mouri residence on the third. He paused for a moment, taking in the familiar sight of what had been his home for four rather eventful—and memorable—years of his life. "It'd be nice to visit Beika again."

It was bittersweet for him, seeing the place. It brought to mind four years of countless moments of adventure, fear, exasperation, comfort, and fondness. Four years of joy and triumph, sorrow and heartbreak. The street held memories that Conan would never forget, even if he wanted to. A soft sigh escaped him, and Conan unexpectedly felt his chest tighten with emotion as he stared, surrounded by nothing but the light-polluted sky, the sleeping buildings, and the distant roar of traffic.

The buildings all along the street were dark—as they should be at near midnight. The third-floor apartment, Conan knew, now housed an aging Mouri Kogoro, alone. Ran had long since left the place, first for university, and then for her job as a budding criminal defense lawyer—just like her mother, Kisaki Eri. While she still visited her father often, Conan could not help but wonder how Kogoro was getting along without Ran to constantly look after him.

_"—an! Conan!"_

The magician thief snapped out of his melancholy torpor at Ayumi's insistent repetition of his name. "Huh?"

_"I_ said _,"_ Ayumi huffed, _"We should invite Kaori, Kousei, and Shinichi, too."_

Miyazono Kaori, Arima Kousei, and Izumi Shinichi were classmates of Conan's at Ekoda High School. The three had become friends with Conan soon after he had moved to Ekoda. Kaori was a blonde-haired, free-spirited girl with an independent, supportive spirit and absolutely adored playing the violin. Kousei was a calm and introspective black-haired boy who oftentimes lost himself in thought whenever he was not playing the piano. The two of them were an item and had been dating since middle school—though how they got along with their diametric personalities was beyond Conan's understanding. Shinichi was a thoughtful, quiet chocolate-haired youth who was even-tempered, mature beyond his age, and considerate of everyone around him.

Conan had initially resented Shinichi quite a bit just for his given name alone, though he _knew_ that his umbrage stemmed from an absurdly petty reason. But it had hurt to hear his name being called and to not respond, to know that it was not _him_ that was being addressed. Still, he had done his best to be polite to the other boy, and the somewhat-of-a-loner Shinichi had eventually become one of his friends.

"I'll be sure to ask if they are available," Conan drawled, forcing himself to move past the Mouri home and towards a livelier Beika Station. "I'm going to shower and go to sleep." He decidedly did _not_ want to answer questions regarding where he was in the middle of the night based on the sounds of his surroundings. "Talk to you all later, okay?"

A chorus of agreements and goodbyes followed, and Conan made the rest of the trip to the train station with only his thoughts for company. There were few people on the train; the phantom thief lightly dozed until his stop was announced. He hopped off the vehicle and made his way back home.

A dim glow lit one of the front windows of the Kuroba home, and Conan instantly knew that Chikage was still awake. The woman had a penchant for combining candlelight and tea at odd hours of the night, and he absently wondered if it was a trait all phantom thieves shared. His late-night riddling with Touichi-KID from his first childhood came to mind, along with all of the heists Kaito-KID had pulled once the sun had dipped below the horizon.

"I'm home," he called softly as he closed the door behind him, doffing his sneakers and slipping his feet into his house slippers.

"Welcome home." The former Phantom Lady was indeed sitting in the living room, a row of decorative tealights lit on the coffee table and a pot of what smelled like chrysanthemum tea on a tray next to the candles. Chikage smiled as Conan shuffled into the room, a multitude of emotions swirling in her observant eyes. "Not what you wanted?"

Conan snorted a laugh and shook his head. "This wasn't the one." He settled into an armchair across from the woman, and she wordlessly offered a cup of tea. He accepted it with murmured thanks, and the two phantom thieves sat in comfortable, contemplative silence as they watched the minute flickers of the otherwise steady teardrops of light.

"I encountered _Them_ tonight," Conan finally said quietly. "Snake still believed me to be Touichi-san."

Chikage huffed. "That man is an utter idiot," he murmured with no small amount of contempt in her voice. Her eyes flickered up to her houseguest. "You aren't injured, are you?"

Conan shook his head. "I have a graze on my arm, but I patched it up right after I lost them. It'll scab over by tomorrow evening."

The Kuroba widow's eyes darkened in displeasure. "If only I could kill them…" she breathed.

"You don't want to kill them," Conan softly refuted, "You're so much better than that."

Chikage sighed. "You're right, I don't _actually_ want to kill them," she confessed after several moments of silence, "But the sentiment remains."

Conan gave her a small but understanding smile. "And it's natural to feel that way, considering what and how much they took from you. But… just don't ever sink to their level." He leaned forwards to set his now empty teacup on the tray. "Would you like me to clean this up?"

"No," she replied, eyes softening as she smiled at him. "I'll clean up. Why don't you shower and go to bed?" She quirked a mischievous eyebrow. "You still have school tomorrow—or rather, today, after all."

A surprised chuckle escaped him. "Don't remind me," he grumbled good-naturedly. With a respectful nod, he excused himself and bid his landlady a good evening. After stowing away Kaitou KID's outfit and gear and a quick shower later, Conan tumbled into bed. He was asleep the moment his head touched his pillow.

\---

Late Saturday morning found one part-time phantom thief and part-time-detective on the way to Beika with three friends in tow. The quartet was walking towards Café Poirot, animatedly discussing their plans for the coming summer break.

"—part-time job to help around the house," Shinichi was saying. "I mean, I don't want to be too much of a burden on my parents."

"I'd say you're the most responsible out of all of us," Kaori remarked with a laugh. She eyed Conan, then amended, "Well, it's really a toss-up between you and Conan."

"Oi!" Conan protest, mock-offended as he absently flipped a five-hundred-yen coin through his fingers. "Are you implying I'm _old_?"

"She can get away with saying that because she's still a child despite her looks," Kousei drawled, then flinched as his girlfriend smacked his shoulder none too gently. He gave her a wounded look and griped, "What? It's true."

Kaori pouted. "Just because I am like that doesn't mean you get to tell everyone!"

"We already knew," Shinichi chuckled. "It's not a state secret or anything, and even if it was, it was not well kept in the least."

The foursome made it to Poirot without any problems—or bodies, and Conan internally sighed with relief. Unlike the original trio he had befriended in elementary, this newer trio did not react well to happening upon corpses. Kousei and Kaori were musicians at heart, and Shinichi was a casual gamer in his downtime. They had no interest in trying to suss out and chase down culprits.

The door jingled merrily as they entered the café, and Enomoto Azusa greeted them with a smile. "Welcome! Please sit wherever you li—Conan-kun, what a surprise! I haven't seen you in a while!"

Conan smiled and nodded his head at the long-time waitress. "Azusa-san, it's been a while."

"Indeed it has! How have you been?" she asked as she followed the four high school students to a table of their choosing.

"Really busy," the detective replied truthfully. His friends from Ekoda knew that aside from homework, he practiced martial arts and played soccer with the school's team in his spare time, and even somehow managed to squeeze in solving murders with the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. What they did not know was that he moonlighted as a magician-phantom thief on top of all that. It was a wonder that he even had time for friends with all of that on his plate.

His friends laughed, agreeing with him wholeheartedly. They were interrupted from their gleeful elaboration of Conan's seemingly impossible schedule by the arrival of the other half of their group.

"Conan!" chorused Ayumi, Mitsuhiko, and Genta as they entered the restaurant. Ayumi tackled Conan in a hug, and the boys traded hearty shoulder slaps in lieu of hugs as they exchanged salutations.

"Edogawa-kun," Ai greeted as she approached at a much more sedate pace than her companions.

"Haibara," he answered in reply. Unlike everyone else, the two shrunken adults retained an air of reserve around each other. Neither could forget their true ages, nor could they forget what they had both gone through. There was deep mutual respect for the other, along with gratitude for what the other had done, sympathy for what the other had lost, and a familial sort of love bred through shared hardships.

"It's good to see you again," the strawberry blond said, a faint smile curving her lips as she looked him over to ascertain his health before it flattened and thinned in veiled displeasure. She stepped up and hugged him, muttering sotto voce into his ear, "I need to speak to you privately at some point."

"Okay," Conan answered back just as quietly as he hugged her back, then stepped back and said in a normal voice, "Same."

"Please sit," Azusa said, and the group of eight picked a large table—Shinichi, Mitsuhiko, Genta, and Ai sat on individual chairs, while Kaori, Kousei, Conan, and Ayumi piled onto the bench. Ayumi still harbored a crush on Conan, much to his discomfort, as he still viewed himself as ten years older than her despite his physical age of sixteen. As it was, he subtly tried to scoot a little further away to add some distance between the two of them. The brunette had a tendency to sit as close as possible to him without actual contact whenever she could.

The group caught up with each other as they ordered their food. The Shounen Tantei-dan described their non-murder encounters with helping the police with Ai tossing in comments here and there. Their frequency in dealing with murders had dropped to practically zero once Conan had left, and Genta loudly complained about the lack of exciting cases they could have solved.

Shinichi talked a little about the latest video game he was playing, as well as his progress on coding and graphic design in an effort to eventually design his own video game. Kousei and Kaori discussed their upcoming concerts and competitions—the two of them would be performing as accompanists to the renowned opera singer Akiba Reiko in Domoto Hall.

As for Conan—he did not go into too much detail with his murder cases, but instead chose to talk about the soccer games he played. If asked, he would touch upon whatever he happened to be working on in ninjutsu, but he never once breathed a word about his one other major activity: that being the fact that he was the elusive Kaitou KID, and the third one at that.

Conan was mulling over his mental list of gems to check when he was nudged on the side by Ayumi. "Conan?"

"Yes?" he replied, blinking quizzically.

"You up for a trip to Tropical Land?" Genta asked. Conan froze. "We haven't gone in a while."

"We're also finally tall enough to ride Mystery Coaster too!" Kaori cheered, and the table descended into excited babbling about what activities everyone wanted to do while they were there.

_Mystery Coaster—beheading—Gin—Ran—roller coaster—Vodka—apoptoxin—shrinking—pain—heat—agony—_

"-nan?" Ayumi had grasped his shoulder and had a hand pressed against his forehead. "You went pale all of a sudden, and you're sweating despite not having a fever," she said with worry clear in her tone.

Conan shook her off as gently as he could in his still panicked state. "S-sorry," he stuttered, standing up and uncaring of the amount as he tossed more than enough cash to cover his meal. "I need to go."

He ignored his friends' concern and left the café hurriedly, no destination in mind except for the need to be alone before his panic attack escalated. His feet led him into nearby Beika Park, and Conan ensconced himself at the base of a weeping willow tree, the hanging branches and leaves providing a natural privacy curtain.

Conan pressed his hands over his nose and mouth, trying to regulate the amount of oxygen he was taking in. While the shrunken detective had been to Tropical Land twice more since his poisoning, for whatever reason there had never been a mention of the Mystery Coaster until today—

—which was apparently a trigger for him.

Just like snowy car accidents and shrapnel wounds. But those were triggers that he could somewhat ignore and brute force power through because there was usually someone's life in danger, and life always took precedence over his anxiety. But there had been no life-threatening incident, and he had not known he would react in such a way.

Squeezing his eyes shut in frustration, Conan kept a slow, if stuttering breathing pattern. _Fuck,_ he thought, and he felt the hot wake of tears slide down his cheeks. _Why am I always too late to prevent a death?_

Under the willow tree, Edogawa Conan quietly cried and dealt with his panic attack. It was hours before he made his way back to his home in Ekoda.

\---

Wednesday evening found Conan just returned from soccer practice. A revitalizing and refreshing shower later, the detective had just sat down at his desk to begin the day's homework when Chikage called to him from the base of the stairs.

"Conan-kun! You have a visitor!"

Wracking his brain for any reason he would have a visitor, Conan trotted down the stairs, freezing when he spotted the distinctive strawberry blond curls of Haibara Ai. "Ha—Haibara!" he exclaimed as he finished his trip to the ground floor.

Ai regarded him solemnly. "Edogawa-kun," she greeted. "Would you mind if we talked? Privately?"

"Uh, sure," he replied, glancing at his landlady.

Chikage smiled before slipping into the kitchen. "Do whatever you need to do, Conan."

Conan led his longtime friend up the stairs to his room. He followed after her, closing the door behind him. Ai had chosen to sit at his desk, slowly spinning in the swivel chair. The detective sat on the edge of his bed and regarded the scientist. "What's up, Haibara?"

Ai was silent as she eyed him for several long moments before she asked with a mix of emotion in her voice, "What are you doing, Kudou-kun?"

He tilted his head quizzically in response. "What do you mean?"

"Why are you playing dress up as Kaitou KID?" she asked pointedly, her eyes sharp. "I didn't realize you had such kleptomaniac tendencies."

He tensed. There was fleeting moment where Conan was tempted to deny her accusation, but he knew it was a lost cause. Instead he sighed, ruffled his bangs in self-directed irritation, and answered with a hesitant question of his own. "What gave me away?"

Ai folded her arms across her chest as she leaned back into the chair. "Nothing that the police could use to pin you," she said, and he immediately relaxed a bit. That she had been able to figure out who the newest phantom thief was had both scared and surprised him. "It's only because I know you," she continued. "And I cannot think of anyone more noble and idiotic than you to pick up the cape and monocle."

"Oi!" Conan interjected, mildly offended.

The strawberry blonde gave him a very flat look. "Was there a reason that you picked up ninjutsu after you moved here aside from additional health benefits? I can't imagine you falling in love with ninja movies enough to want to train like them."

He grimaced. She had a point.

"Not only that, your fidgeting has changed. While you still use a soccer ball to think through problems, you now also flip coins, cards, pens—anything relatively small—through your fingers with a dexterity you did not used to have." Ai leaned back into the chair, a tired expression crossing her face. "Is there something behind being Kaitou KID, or did you just suddenly decide to pick up grand larceny as another hobby of yours?"

"There's—a reason, Haibara—a _good_ reason," he said as he deliberated on his options. To admit would be to not only expose himself as KID, but Chikage and potentially Jii as accomplices. On the other hand, this was _Haibara_ —someone who knew how high the stakes could be with the kind of secrets she had kept. And she had been nothing but a solid support and wonderful sounding board during the time he had been trying to take down the Organization. He trusted her back then, and he still trusted her now.

"I chose to become Kaitou KID not because I thought it would be fun, but because there is another entity like the Organization out there." Ai blanched at the information. "KID was created as a means of drawing them out."

"You're crazy, Kudou-kun," she gasped. "You've already taken down one syndicate! Why are you going after another while being a criminal yourself?!" The detective could clearly read the terror in her eyes: _Why are you so determined to put yourself in danger?_

Conan's smile was full of melancholy and regret as he gazed at his clasped fingers in his lap. "Because it was the dying wish of the last Kaitou KID," he uttered softly, and his chest ached at the memory of Kuroba Kaito expiring in his arms, head lolling on his lap as he and the Mouris had raced on a snowy mountain road towards a hospital. "Two good men had dedicated their lives trying to take this Syndicate down." The image of a smiling Kuroba Touchi drifted across his mind's eye, the memory from one of the few times his mother, Kudou Yukiko, had taken him with her to her disguise lessons. His eyes caught Ai's, and he said with a hard promise in his voice, "I'm going to ensure that they did not die in vain."

Ai stared at him for a long stretch of time, various emotions crossing both her expression and her eyes. At length she bowed her head as an exasperated, tired chuckle escaped her. "You wouldn't be you if you let a situation like this pass you by."

And Conan instantly knew she had reconciled his decision with her fears. He reached out to grasp her hands in his. "Haibara," he said, catching her gaze with his. "I owe him this. And it's the right thing to do—if you can ignore the grand larceny… and the property damage… and impersonating various police officers… and—"

"Okay, okay, I get it," she interrupted, and gave him a weak grin. "Promise me you won't die?" she asked.

Conan chuckled as he grinned softly back. "Yeah, I promise." Ai had not asked that he be safe—she knew as well as he did the risks accepted when dealing with any power-hungry underground organization. "Besides, I'm the uncatchable Kaitou KID!" he added, upping the wattage of his grin to near-manic levels. "They won't—ow! Haibara!"

Ai quirked an eyebrow at Conan's pout as he rubbed the shoulder she had smacked. "If you are the new Kaitou KID, then the infamous phantom thief is doomed," she gravely intoned before cracking a grin at her friend's indignant squawk of outrage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This idea had been bouncing around in my head for a while, though it was a bit difficult to get it out and onto paper. I will not apologize for writing Conan with some PTSD and the associated anxiety. For him to go through something as traumatic as poisoning and shrinking, I cannot imagine him not having some sort of mental and emotional scarring, even if it is never addressed in canon. Miyazono Kaori and Arima Kousei are the main characters in Shigatsu wa Kimi no Uso, and Izumi Shinichi is the main human character from Kiseijuu: Sei no Kakuritsu. Akiba Reiko is a soprano singer from Movie 12: _Senritsu no Furu Sukoa_. I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> \---
> 
> Completed: 10.06.2019


End file.
